Red Widow
by TheMsMeep
Summary: What if Jack's path to evil had never involved the Xiaolin or the Heylin? What if Chase needed more than Lao Mang Long to satisfy his cravings? Then their first meeting might have happened like this.
1. Dance With Me

A/N: Howdy there. Right now, technically, I should be working on Recipe For Success. And I am, I swear. But two questions insinuated themselves into my mind the other day. What if Jack had taken a different path to evil, one that didn't involve shen-gong-wu? And what if Chase needed more than soup to keep his dragon happy? Then their first meeting might have gone a little like this. . .

8 8 8 8 8 8

Chase stood impassive in the face of motion, utterly still as the world around him flickered and danced. Bodies moved helplessly, caught up in waves of music, but he remained unshaken by the sound and fury.

He was here for prey.

The club was crowded, dim and pulsing, but around Chase there was a bubble of space that shifted but seldom shrank. Even the bravest pleasure-seekers gave him a wide berth, instinctively recognizing the darkness he embodied.

He preferred it that way; he didn't care to be bothered by whatever flotsam emerged from the tossing sea of humanity. Instead he waited, watching, savoring the hunger that twisted within him. His need for nourishment was growing, and there was only one thing that kept his inner dragon satisfied.

Somewhere in the writhing crowd of bodies was his next meal. When the night drew to its close, he would cull his choice from the herd. Too drunk to resist, either on alcohol or Chase's beauty, the human would follow him into the waiting darkness.

Sometimes he ate them then and there, if that night's club was conveniently isolated. More often he took them to his lair, whisking them there with a touch of Heylin magic before shifting into his draconic form. Once in a rare while, he would choose to slake his lust with them before feeding. Those victims were the luckiest; they knew the joy his human form could give, and as a courtesy he let them fall asleep before he killed them.

He surveyed the throng of humans, noting with disdain every ungainly dancer and heavily made-up face. He would find no lovers here. Such a lack of grace and beauty in the world! A thousand years ago, he could walk through the land picking worthy youths like fruit. Now he waited half the night to find something worthy of his consumption.

The glisten of unnaturally pale skin caught his attention. A lily-white boy who hardly looked old enough to be there was dancing through the crowd in a deliberate line, heading straight for Chase. Hair the bright red of a sunset swished as his body swayed to the pounding music.

_And so it begins_. There were always one or two who approached him, desire making them disregard their instincts, and they always annoyed him. Vapid women and men seeking dark thrills threw themselves at him, trying and failing to be subtle as they danced coyly around the subject of sex. Their inept flirtation bored him to no end, and this boy was no doubt more of the same.

Then he looked up, and Chase's irritation vanished.

His eyes were a deep, piercing ruby, the color of blood fresh from the vein. A line of black kohl was drawn beneath each eye, the left one hooked like a fang in the middle. The contrast of snow-white skin, black makeup, and blood-red eyes was startling.

Chase felt a flicker of desire stir within him, but he pushed it aside. The boy was hardly more than a mouthful. He would barely compensate for the energy expanded in transporting him back to the lair, and do absolutely nothing to satiate Chase's hunger.

The boy emerged from the crowd and walked confidently towards him, skin stained by the glow of flashing lights. He smiled alluringly as he drew closer, halting once he was in speaking distance.

"So . . . come here often?"

If Chase had been anyone else, he would have snorted. That was the best the little red-head could come up with? He decided not to dignify the question with a reply, and hoped the child would take the hint.

Instead of leaving, however, the boy leaned against the wall, crossing his arms casually.

"Strong and silent, huh? I like that. I'm Jack, by the way."

He wasn't foolish enough to hold out his hand, and Chase was obscurely pleased.

Although he gave no outward sign, Jack seemed to notice his approval. "I don't suppose you're looking for a boy-toy?" he asked cheekily, leaning just a little closer, though he was careful not to invade Chase's personal space.

Chase turned the full force of his gaze on Jack and spoke for the first time.

"You couldn't handle me."

Jack began to protest, but Chase cut him off.

"Besides, I don't deal with whores."

Jack wasn't fazed by the slur to his reputation. He'd had worse words -and occasionally punches- thrown at him by men who didn't appreciate his flirtation and women defending their turf. But this man wasn't as disinterested as he pretended to be; Jack had seen the way those bronze eyes caressed his body as he danced across the club.

'I'm just a slut, actually. This is pleasure, not business . . . or at least, it could be pleasure."

The beautiful man ignored him, silent once more. Undeterred, Jack tried again.

"I don't suppose you'd honor me with a dance?"

"How wise of you. I won't."

Although his face remained as stony as ever, Jack could have sworn he saw amusement in the stranger's eyes. Encouraged, he decided to try something slightly bolder.

"Well, I hope you don't mind if I dance by myself then." Without waiting for an answer, he straightened up and cocked an ear, listening to the music for the first time since starting the conversation. He grinned as he recognized the song.

Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

He let the bass move him, rolling through his pliant body like a wave. He knew the man was watching him but he refused to look, carefully turning his gaze anywhere and everywhere but that handsome face.

_You stand there, with your long black hair,_

_Looking so sweet with your savoir faire_

Jack moved like music made flesh, slim hips undulating, lithe body twisting in the pulsing air.

_You're looking kind of anxious with your back up against the wall_

_Don't this kind of music make you want to move at all?_

He swayed in blatant invitation, promising sex and passion with every fluctuation of his body. Multi-colored lights flashed over his skin, painting him gold, blue, and blood-red in rapid succession. The chorus of the song began and he finally looked at the stranger, eyes full of intensity and lust.

_Don't you walk away from me_

_Cuz I've got to get you next me_

_Dance next to me, dance next to me_

_Oh please oh please oh can't you see,_

_That I got to get you baby_

_To lose yourself with me_

Chase felt a new kind of hunger growing as he watched Jack dance. The boy moved like sin personified, and it was testing his control. He wanted that lissome body beneath him, wanted to make those startling eyes close in ecstasy. He refused to give in, however. He had already decided not to take the boy, and he intended to stick to his decision, if only as a matter of principle. Then Jack looked at him, amorous crimson eyes meeting Chase's as he danced shamelessly, and Chase knew he was lost.

Making a sudden decision, he flooded Jack's mind with Heylin magic, temporarily drowning his consciousness.

For a giddy moment, as the stranger moved toward him with arms outstretched, Jack thought he had won. Then the sudden sensation of wooziness crashed down on him like an avalanche, and the dark, flashing world of the club was washed away by utter blackness.

He fell forward, unconscious, into those waiting arms.


	2. Take Me Home

Jack woke to darkness.

He was naked, sprawled across the smooth cotton sheets of a very soft bed. The room around him was pitch black, cave darkness unrelieved by any hint of light.

He lay motionless for a long moment, trying to connect the dots that had led him here. His last memory was of dancing, trying to entice some stranger at the Suede Tangerine. He didn't remember leaving, getting here (wherever here was), or anything else besides that last dance. He wasn't sure where the memories had gone; he didn't remember drinking more than a sip or two, and there was no tell-tale hangover headache or taste of alcohol on his breath. Had he been drugged?

Ah well. It wouldn't be the first time.

Jack sat up slowly, bracing himself for the nasty after-effects that usually accompanied knock-out drugs. He felt no dizziness or nausea as he rose, which probably meant he'd been out for a while. Jack knew more than your average man about the chemical manipulation of the body, and the effects of most drugs lasted for hours. So . . . logically, it should be day by now. The pitch blackness meant he'd either been out for a _really_ long time, or he was in somebody's basement.

_You know_, he thought, _if I were anyone else, I'd be pretty damn scared right now._

Jack felt his way to the edge of the bed and put one tentative foot down on the floor, deciding he might as well gather clues as to his whereabouts. The floor was smooth, bare stone, pleasantly cool under his feet. He stood up and shuffled slowly forward, hoping he wouldn't bump into anything in the dark. His feet found nothing and he stretched out his hands, certain he was about to hit a wall. His hands found nothing but air, and Jack began moving carefully forward again.

He was just thinking that this had to be a dream, that he had walked too far through the darkness and no basement could be this big, when his grasping fingers brushed something silky. He yelped and jumped back, imagination providing him with a hundred terrible pictures of what could be hanging here in the dark.

_Dead person's hair_, his terrified mind gibbered. _Dead, hanging person's hair. _

_Oh, shut up,_ he told himself. _When_ _have I actually gone home with someone crazy enough to have bodies in the basement?_

_Three times._

_Oh, right. Shit. _

Jack squashed the urge to run back to the bed and hide under it. If there was a body over here, there might be one under there too. Instead, he stretched his hands out and firmly grasped the unknown object. It didn't feel like hair; it felt like fabric, kind of like . . .

"Curtains. I nearly peed myself over fucking _curtains_? I have got to get a grip."

Disgusted with himself, Jack found the edge of the curtains and started feeling behind them for a window, hoping to get a look outside. Instead of glass he found unbroken stone and stopped, puzzled. So . . . the curtains were just covering the wall, then? This was definitely a basement.

Behind him, someone laughed.

Jack spun, heart racing, peering uselessly into the darkness.

"Would you like a little light, Jack?"

It was the voice of the man from the club, the one Jack had danced for, and he didn't wait for an answer. There was a scrape of stone on stone and suddenly moonlight came flooding in through a rapidly widening space in the wall, filling the room with a soft, silvery glow. Jack saw the spacious room with its vaulted ceiling, the swaths of fabric hanging from the walls, and the huge canopied bed that dominated the room. But what held his attention was the man standing at the foot of the bed, eyes shining like a cat's in the moonlight. He must be wearing some kind of contacts, Jack thought, because human eyes just didn't do that. His long, dark hair blended into the deep shadows in the room, as did the black robe that he wore. The only thing that stood out was his teeth, unusually sharp and bright as he smiled in the dim light.

Okay, so this was all pretty creepy, but Jack was not unduly worried. The posh digs suggested that the man might just be an eccentric rich guy. Plus, it was part of what made the game exciting, knowing that he might end up with a normal guy out for a bit of fun or a psycho who kept his skinning knife and his condoms in the same drawer. Either way, this guy would no longer be a problem in the morning.

Chase was impressed. Jack was showing more initiative than most of his victims did. A thousand years ago, he had expected his prey to be lively. The people of that time had lived in fear of ghosts and demons, and some had recognized him for what he was. Others he told, for his own amusement. Some would attempt to run or fight him; others would fall down in worship or command him to begone in the name of one god or another.

The people of this day and age had some instincts left, but those foolish enough to come home with him rarely noticed anything wrong. Those he told his story to now usually thought he was crazy or attempting to role-play. Once, a blue-haired goth with mystic ambitions had divulged that she was a witch after he explained his draconic nature.

Chase had been rather disappointed after he ate her. She had tasted predictably human.

He decided to tell Jack what he was, if the opportunity presented itself. The reaction was sure to be interesting, and it had been quite some time since he had done so.

"You may look out the window, if you like," he told Jack, gesturing towards the gap he had opened in the wall.

"Thanks a bunch," the boy murmured, obviously fighting hard not to sound sarcastic. Nonetheless, he walked past Chase and peered out the window.

The first thing Jack noticed was that the "window" was simply of a hole in the stone. There was no glass set in the space, just a sudden absence of wall leading out into the night. Then Jack looked out, and the weirdness of the window faded into unimportance.

His breath caught as he looked down. And down, and down, and _down._ Far below him stretched a vast expanse of empty countryside. Closer, but still below him, wisps of cloud floated. The moon was huge, a shining silver disc so close he could almost touch it.

"Toto," he breathed "we are not in Kansas anymore."

"We weren't in Kansas to begin with."

Mr. Eccentric and Very Rich was standing right behind him, eyes still shining like a feline caught in the headlights, and Jack suppressed a shiver at the nearness of his body.

"Very true. And I'm guessing we aren't in Oz now either?"

Jack could tell the man wasn't getting the reference, but he wasn't particularly inclined to care.

"We're in China. Inside Huo Long Mountain, to be exact."

Jack mulled this over for a moment and decided the stranger was simply trying to mess with him. It was possible, though unlikely, that he'd been out long enough to make it from L.A. to China, but most airlines had policies against dragging unconscious people onto international flights. It might not be the best idea to share his disbelief with his host, however, so Jack picked something else to focus on.

"I see. We're _inside_ a mountain? But . . . that's a window."

Jack turned away from the window in question, leaning against the wall as he waited for an explanation.

"This is a volcano, which means that it is hollow. The shell is quite thick, but this room is near the outermost edge, and I am willing to expand some effort to bring light into my room."

"Oh. That makes- wait. You live in a _volcano_? Who lives in a volcano? Are you some kind of supervilian?"

Jack's pretense at calm acceptance cracked a bit. This guy was pretty, but he was odd. _A volcano lair in China? How stupid does he think I am?_

"Not quite. I'm what you might call an 'evil sorcerer'. The term is not an exact fit, but it implies a certain level of powerful magic, which I posses."

Ah. Not lying, just crazy. It was probably best to play along.

"Gotcha. What exactly does being an evil sorcerer entail?"

"At the moment, very little. I oppose the Xiaolin, the side of good, in all things and keep them from gathering shen-gong-wu. The shen-gong-wu are magical items scattered across the earth, and some of them can provide great advantages in battle or other aid to their wielders."

Jack nodded as though he was fascinated and let his gaze rove over the man's chest, partially revealed by the loosely tied robe, and the strong legs not completely covered by the short garment. He was very conscious of the fact that he was naked, and the "evil sorcerer" was only a hair's breadth away.

"I also spend much of my time hunting. I sold my soul to a demon some time ago in return for eternal youth, and I was given the second form of a dragon, along with a dragon's immortality. I must replenish my second form form by drinking soup made with the flesh of a dragon, and I must also eat the flesh of a human in order to keep from losing my humanity completely. Finding prey is time-consuming; there are few dragons left, and few humans fit to be my meal."

Jack was actually listening now, completely entranced. This guy was either nutty as a squirrel or he had a very odd sense of humor. He was absolutely gorgeous, though. His hair was a river of shadow framing his handsome, exotic face, and Jack could feel those eyes on his skin.

_Enough talk_, Jack decided. _Let's get the cuckoo out of his clothes. He can tell me he's the King of Prussia as long as I get to look at him naked while he does it._

"Are you going to eat me?" Jack asked with a flirtatious smile. "It seems like such a waste of my talents."

"What talents are those?"

"Why don't I show you instead of telling you? That way you'll know I'm not just boasting to save my life."

"An admirable suggestion."

Chase was mildly amused by Jack's sudden change in demeanor. Revealing his true nature actually seemed to make Jack horny, or perhaps he had merely grown impatient with talking. Either way, Chase was more than ready to sample the delights that the young man was so freely displaying. He moved back towards the bed, slowly untying his robe and dropping it to the floor as he did so. Jack followed, outlined with a faint halo by the moonlight behind him, his expression gratifyingly lustful and his eyes roamed over Chase's body.

Chase reached for him, intending to draw him onto the bed, but Jack forestalled the attempt by dropping to his knees and running one pale hand up Chase's thigh. He looked up, red eyes gleaming, as he stretched out his tongue to give Chase a soft, teasing lick.

Chase had a moment to reflect on how glad he was he had not killed this one right away. Then Jack's mouth descended, and the thought was washed away by rising bliss.


	3. Kill Me Quickly

A/N: I'm not sure if anybody is reading this story- I think I have a whole three readers- but I do intend to finish it. Here's the second-to-last chapter.

8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8

"I really hate to do it, you know."

The voice drifted down to him slowly, like sunlight filtering through water.

"You look so much younger in the daytime. And you're really too beautiful to waste like this. But that's life, I guess- or rather, that's death."

Through sheer force of will Chase opened his heavy eyes, blinking slowly as brightness flooded in. Jack stood beside the bed, red hair turned to flame by the morning sun shining through the hole in the stone Chase had left open. He was still naked, skin bitten and bruised from their activities the night before, and he was looking down at Chase with an expression of heartbreak.

What concerned Chase was the shining dagger held casually in one hand.

It was a knife he recognized; until this morning it had hung on one wall of his room. It was a plain, single-bladed katar, a memento of his travels in India. Jack held it loosely; an unexpected strike would knock it from his hands, and another would break the impudent whelp's neck.

Chase tried to leap up, only to find that his body barely twitched. It felt like gravity suddenly quadrupled when he tried to move, and no matter how hard he tried he was utterly unable to so much as lift a hand. For the first time in many years, fear filled him as he grasped the situation. He was completely paralyzed and wholly at Jack's mercy- which wasn't a good place to be, considering the weapon he was holding.

"Wow." Jack looked impressed, red eyes wide as he stared down at Chase. "You know, most people never wake up after I give them that stuff. By the time it wears off, they're already dead." He swished the katar idly through the air as he continued, making it flash in the light. "You have some amazing body."

Then he giggled. "But I guess you already knew that. It's poison, by the way. Not fatal in small amounts- like say, the amount you might get if you licked it off someone's nipples- but it will paralyze you. And it's a good thing, too." He shook a finger at Chase with eerily inappropriate playfulness. "You hid my clothes. I was going to try a dose of my latest experiment on you, but I'll have to settle for a slash-and-go. Hope you don't mind if I borrow your knife."

As Jack chattered on, Chase's mind raced furiously, trying to find a way to get him out of this situation. There he was nothing he could do while the paralysis lasted; his body was powerless.

But he had another body, didn't he?

The poison caused paralysis in humans; would it do the same to a dragon? There was no way to be sure, but at the moment he had nothing to lose. Without hesitation, he seized his only chance and triggered the change.

At first, Jack thought the man on the bed was having some kind of allergic reaction. But as green scales erupted across his body and a tail burst from beneath him, Jack realized that something else entirely was going on.

He turned to run, but the giant lizard leaped off the bed and slammed into him, knocking him down and pinning him against the stone floor. The knife was knocked from his hand and skittered across the room, hitting the far wall.

The beast above him snarled, and teeth like a shark's snapped together inches from his head. Pinned by the reptilian body, wrists held in claw-tipped hands, Jack was the most terrified he'd ever been.

Then the lizard spoke.

Now that Chase had the upper hand, he could afford to play with his prey, and he fully intended to do so. He smiled as Jack shuddered beneath him, relishing the fear that flowed from the trembling boy. That fear intensified as he began to speak, and his toothy grin widened even further. It always terrified his enemies, to hear a voice of such cold human intelligence issuing from the body of a monster.

"Tell me, do you always try to kill your lovers after intercourse?"

"I don't _try_." Despite the tremors that shook his body and the fact that his face was pressed against the floor, Jack sounded clearly offended. "I succeed. You're the only one who's ever gotten the better of me. And _you _are an unfairly powerful freaky lizard thing. I guess all that wizard stuff was true?"

Chase flicked his tail lightly against Jack's foot and smiled at his startled flinch. "I am a dragon, as I told you from the beginning. What are you, then? Some kind of spider, killing all your mates?"

"Spider? Nah, I'm just a brilliant serial killer. Jack Spicer, Evil Genius, at your service."

"Genius?"

"Yup. I can do things you wouldn't believe with poisons, explosives, or chemicals of any kind. I prefer the dangerous ones though."

"And what you choose to do is murder strangers?"

Jack shrugged, or tried to. The dragon claws resting on his shoulders and neck made it more of a weak wriggle.

"I like sex. I don't like people. And I really, really love watching poison work. So whenever I have something new to test, I let a pretty man take me home and give him the ride of his life. Then I give him a dose and watch what happens."

"And if that plan goes awry?"

"I dose strategic parts of myself with paralysis-inducing chemicals, as you might have noticed, and I've got a knife in my boot for finishing the job, since most people don't hide my freaking clothes." He tried to turn his head sideways to give the dragon an aggrieved look, but the claws that suddenly dug deeper into his skin changed his mind. "It almost always goes off without a hitch."

He paused, looking troubled. "Speaking of that, are you going to kill me now or what?"

"Are you so eager for death?" Chase found himself once again amused. Jack had regained his composure very quickly, considering the circumstances, and was speaking of his imminent demise quite casually.

"Not eager, exactly." Jack tried to shrug again, then gave it up as a bad job. "But I know it's coming, and there's no use postponing the inevitable. Besides, you don't seem like the kind of guy who grants last requests."

"And what would yours be, if I did?"

"Well . . ." He tried to turn his head again and this time Chase allowed it. He grinned cheekily sideways at the dragon on his back. "I wouldn't mind one more go, if you feel up to it. You can have sex, like this right?"

For a moment, Chase didn't understand what he meant. Then it clicked.

"You actually _desire_ this form?" he demanded, startled.

Jack looked up at him in puzzlement. "Of course. You're a lizard, which is kind of weird, but you're almost as beautiful like this as you are when you're human."

"And your last request, before I devour you, is _sex_?"

"Well yeah. It's the best way I can think of to spend my last few moments. And besides," he blushed, tinting his pale skin bright pink, "death is a big turn on for me. It's just usually someone else's death."

Truth be told, Jack himself was somewhat surprised by the lust he felt for the unearthly creature above him. But he couldn't help but admire that graceful form, and adrenaline combined and the sensation of that smooth body atop his were having an undeniable effect.

Chase shifted atop him and panic raced through him, only serving to fuel his arousal. The scaly hand released his neck and traveled down, sharp claw tips moving softly over his back. Jack shivered at the almost too-pleasant sensation. Then a long, forked tongue flicked out to taste his skin and he moaned, unable to control his reaction, though for all he knew Chase could be preparing to take the first bite.

Chase moved again, and Jack felt something very hard and _very_ large pressing against the curve of his ass.

_Uh-oh. This might not have been such a good idea_, he realized.

Then Chase flipped him over with disorienting speed. Fangs closed with deceptive gentleness on his shoulder and one sharp, deadly claw brushed roughly over a nipple.

All worry vanished as Jack moaned and thrust up against the smooth-scaled body straddling him.


	4. Keep Me Close

It was a strange picture, had there been anyone there to see it. A pale, naked and very battered young man was nestled affectionately against a large green dragon, running one hand lightly across the smooth scales of its side. The bed they lay on looked like it might have been attacked by a tornado, if tornadoes had teeth, and on the floor a gleaming dagger lay forgotten.

It was all rather unusual, and Chase wasn't sure exactly how it had happened.

He'd meant to do something dramatic, like kill Jack in the midst of climax, but when the time came it just hadn't seemed worth it. And afterwards. . . Chase had been prepared for attack or surrender. He had _not_ been prepared for Jack to snuggle against him and start lazily petting him. Jack's hands felt heavenly, and Chase was utterly enamored with the novelty of snuggling. Thinking back, he couldn't remember ever snuggling with any of his lovers. They had all been so much ingested meat by the next morning, and even if he had held them, it would never have been in dragon form.

If it was some kind of ploy, it was working perfectly.

Chase looked down at the red head lying so trustingly on his pillows, suddenly very aware of how easy it would be to crush it with one paw. Distress shot through him at the thought, and he realized with a pang that he didn't want to give up Jack. He wanted to keep this intriguing, amusing, homicidal creature. It was absurd, of course. The boy was a killer. However much Chase might admire the trait, he couldn't afford to have one in his home.

Jack spoke up suddenly.

"You know what you oughta do?"

"What should I do?"

"You should let me be a minion."

"A minion?"

"Minion, henchman, evil team member, whatever. You should keep me, is what I mean."

Once again Chase found himself astonished, a refreshing feeling for the jaded immortal. Had Jack known what he was thinking? How?

Betraying none of his surprise, he queried "And why would I want to do that?"

"Because I'm cute, funny and make a damn good sex toy."

Chase couldn't help it; he chuckled. Jack grinned at him, clearly pleased.

"And anyway, you're an evil wizard, right? You can always use a spare evil genius. And since I doubt any poison I've got works on this," he tapped Chase's scales, "you don't have to worry about me trying to do you in."

"Hmm. Even if I believed that, are you sure you know what you're asking for? You would have to live here, under my command, and much of your old life would be lost to you."

"I spend my days mixing illegal chemicals to sell on the black market and my nights finding men to take home, sleep with, and murder. I assume you'll let me carry on the mixing and the murder, and you can keep me sexed up."

Chase considered it. The proposition was absurd, and the boy was sure to get on his nerves within a week, not to mention probably try to kill him again. Even so, it was very tempting.

He tensed as Jack rolled away from his side, only to place himself between Chase's legs. He began kissing his way up one black-striped thigh and Chase quivered, tail lashing gently as those soft lips moved higher. Jack looked up at him, face alight with wicked desire.

"I bet I can convince you," he purred.

Looking into those blood-red eyes, Chase knew he was lost.


	5. Announcement

Rumor has it all naughty stories will be removed from . In case it's true, I'm letting you know I also have a DeviantArt under TheMsMeep where you can find all my stories.


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